Page 24 of Omega Artist
Tig: Now that you mention it, I’d be more than happy to embrace them at some point.
O-kay, so the real Tig is showing his virtual face at last. It took you long enough!
The devil emoji seems to be his go-to this morning, and his rapid-fire messages don’t give me a chance to reply.
Tig: For now, I’m still waiting for the evidence. Maybe you bragged over nothing. Tease!
Alie G: Already told you I was. Are you 2 busy with your hand to focus on my texts? And FYI: never said I’d reciprocate.
I’ve led him on and decide to grant his wish. After all, I want him hooked; I’ve got to throw him a bone, right? Furthermore, I’d hate for him to think I’m not a woman of my word, even if I meant what I told him. Ineveragreed to send a pic of my abs—or any other body part, for that matter. I cave nonetheless and swiftly snap a few hot shots before debating over which one to send. One that I’m proud of. One that doesn’t show my scars. One that barely includes the swell of my breasts… because that’s the closest he’ll ever get to them. Once again, he beats me to it, and I wait before sending it.
Tig: Busted. My hand is at work, but I’m picturing yours instead.
You wish, you perv!
Wow, this derailed abruptly, and I didn’t see it coming. He must be as intoxicated as I am, although I think he once mentioned that he doesn’t consume alcohol. It might be a good thing that I’m buzzed enough for two. I’ve refrained from pursuing my hidden agenda for too long. Then why am I squirming under my comforter?
Tig: Still, Queen Hen… (Don’t think I didn’t notice ur diversion.)
Alie G: Guilty as charged, King Cocky.
Tig: Nice try, but for someone as well-read as yourself, you should know that King Cocky isn’t the male equivalent of Queen Hen.
Alie G: Duh! What did you expect?
I’m typing the rest of my text so furiously that there isn’t time to second-guess my answer. I guess that I’ve earned being called young and impulsive by my oldest sister.
Alie G: Wanted me to name you King Cock without having seen the goods? Dream on, King Cocky.
Tig: Are you requesting a dick pic after asking me if I was palming my package?
There is such a wide variety of emojis that I can’t keep up. Once again, he shoots another text while I’m re-reading some of our earlier ones, and heat rises in my southern region, and I press my legs together to suppress the sudden urges.
Jesus, I did come on strong. Maybe too strong?
Tig: How many drinks did you have at your supposedly boring party? Not that I’m complaining, just stunned… I guess. I’d be happy to provide more evidence. I have nothing to be shy about in that department either.
Alie G: It’s a figure of speech. I was trying to be witty. And I insist, you ARE cocky!
Tig: Figure of speech, my ass (which is one of my other strong assets, btw).
There’s no point in denying anything further, so I divert the conversation slightly to stop making a fool of myself. I drank way too much last night.
Alie G: Fishing for compliments, are you?
Tig: Stating facts is all, Queen Hen;)
Alie G: Obvly. And to make things clear: dick pics scare me, so that’s a hard pass.
Tig: You prefer sampling the goods over a pic. So do I.
I finally hit send, hoping that my ab diversion will work better.
Alie G: Oops, I got sidetracked by your devious mind and almost forgot.
Tig: Holy shit, you do have great abs! And I won’t comment on the angle you chose.
Nope, there’s no need. You and I both know that it’s to entice your imagination since you can’t see my tits!
